


Damaged Goods

by eerian_sadow



Series: shards of cybertron [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Emotional Trauma, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Rape trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-27
Updated: 2010-07-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5837614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirage has come a long way since joining the Autobots, but the scars haven't all healed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damaged Goods

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place directly after [Pieces Left Behind](http://eerian-sadow.livejournal.com/261338.html), on old, old [](http://springkink.livejournal.com/profile)[springkink](http://springkink.livejournal.com/) fic of mine. (go reread that if you need to. i understand.) it's been sitting on my hard drive forever, and i'm not sure when exactly i had planned to post it. there will be a third part eventually, and it will have a happy ending.
> 
> Note 2016: if there's a part 3 to this started anywhere in my files, I can't find it. I'm honestly not sure now that i'll ever get that part 3 written, since 5.5 years is a long time to let an idea lay.

They had known each other for nearly a centivorn before Hound saw Mirage drop his cloak around a mech other than himself outside of a briefing or meeting. He wasn’t surprised that the mech in question was Jazz--the special ops unit worked closely together, after all--but he was warmed by the simple act of trust. Mirage was healing, even if the other mech didn’t realize it.

The saboteur smiled at them when Mirage sat down with Hound at their usual table in the commissary. The spy returned the gesture shyly, as if he wasn’t sure it was all right.

“It’s good to see you, Mirage,” Jazz said, finishing off his energon.

Mirage looked down at himself, either in embarrassment or surprise. “Thank you, Jazz.”

“I mean that,” The black and white mech affirmed. “Was starting to get worried about you.”

“Sir?”

Jazz stood and walked over to their table. Slowly, carefully enough that Mirage could stop him if he wanted to, the saboteur placed a hand on the spy’s shoulder. “It ain’t easy, letting everyone see you again. Feels like it’s written all over your chassis for a long time. But you can’t hide forever, or you’ll never move past it.”

Hound felt his fuel lines go cold as both he and Mirage realized exactly what Jazz was saying. “Jazz, are you…?”

“It was a long time ago, Hound,” the saboteur replied. “I haven’t forgotten it, but I’ve moved on.”

Mirage put a hand over Jazz’s. “Was it… How long did it take?”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, the black and white mech gave him a gentle smile. “Longer than I wanted it too, but it helped that I had a mate who cared enough to help me through it.”

The spy gave the tracker a startled look before turning back to his superior officer. “Jazz, we aren’t--”

“I know,” Jazz laughed. “That friendship you have is important, too.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a slow healing process. Mirage didn’t make friends easily and often had to lean on Hound more than the tracker thought he could take. More than once, he found himself turning to other mechs—sometimes his other friends and sometimes Ratchet or Jazz—to help him carry the spy’s burdens.

And yet, he never once regretted having reached out to the noble.

Mirage’s trust warmed him--and meant more to him than anything else in the universe. The spy’s friendship made him happier than anything else he could think of and his mere presence made him comfortable. Sometimes Hound wondered exactly how Mirage felt about him, but he never did either of them the disservice of asking.

Mirage laughed when they were together, and that was enough for Hound.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Time passed and Hound stopped actively counting the cycles since he had met Mirage. After a while, it felt like he had known the spy forever and that was all that mattered to him. He treasured the other mech, as he had never treasured anyone before.

He was fairly certain that he was in love with the noble.

And so it stung when Mirage began drawing away from him. It had been little things at first—refueling with Jazz or Bumblebee instead of him or spending more time in his rooms reading. It progressed, though, to entire rest periods spent with Jazz and Prowl or long missions away from the base. Hound didn’t understand what had happened or where he had gone wrong, but he was determined to set it right.

The tracker cornered the spy when he returned to base from his most recent mission. “What did I do wrong, Mirage?”

“What do you mean?” Mirage had the grace to look confused.

“You’re pulling away from me, Mirage.” Hound knew his sadness was showing on his faceplates, but he didn’t care anymore. He missed their friendship and, more importantly, he missed Mirage. “I’m fine with you spending time with other mechs—I want you to have other friends. And I understand that sometimes missions are going to take you off base. But we don’t even take energon together anymore. Ever. And I don’t remember the last time we played a game or watched any of those old entertainment vids that Perceptor has stored in his library. I miss you.”

“Oh, Hound.” Mirage sounded as sparkbroken as the tracker felt. The noble took his hand and squeezed it tightly. “I wasn’t trying to abandon you. But the others—especially the others who pulled me out of the Tower—say things about us. They aren’t flattering at their kindest. I didn’t want you to have to be ashamed of being seen with a mech like me.”

“Primus, Mirage. Why would I be ashamed of you?” He was shocked, and a little dismayed at the reasoning. “Why would you even think that I could be?”

“I am, as Cliffjumper so eloquently put it, damaged goods.” Mirage looked away, unable to meet Hound’s gaze any longer. “And you are so bright and wonderful that I drag you down with my mere presence. I felt it best if I simply let you be.”

Hound felt his spark break a little more. He had no idea that mechs were gossiping about Mirage’s circumstances that way or that the spy was so hurt by their words. He ached for what the spy had been going through without him. “Mirage, look at me.”

When the noble met his optics again, he continued. “Cliffjumper is an idiot. And so is anyone else who’s spreading rumors about us. You are wonderful and strong and caring. And I have never, _ever_ been ashamed to be your friend. And I never will be.”

Mirage surprised him by using their still joined hands to pull him into a hug. The spy held him tightly, almost desperately, seeking as much comfort as possible. “I don’t deserve a friend like you.”  



End file.
